DEJA VIEW
by Ann3
Summary: Following on from To Err is Human, all sorts of lightning are striking twice for Nigel... thanks again for all the reviews !!


DEJA VIEW

Written by Ann Rivers ann.rivers@virgin.net

Summary: Following on from To Err Is Human… all sorts of lightning are striking twice for Nigel…

Spoilers: Smoking Gun and Headless Nun

Disclaimer: RH and its characters belong to Can/West and Fireworks Productions

Two days earlier, Nigel Bailey had been soaked miserably through by the mother of all storms. 

Now he was being soaked once more by warm torrents of water pounding onto his shoulders.

Unlike two days ago, however, he felt no inclination to move out of the pummelling deluge.

After a week of feeling like something the cat dragged in, he was finally starting to feel human again. 

Not even the soap shooting through the curtain onto the floor could dent his blessedly cheerier mood.

All of that changed, however, as Nigel carefully crouched down and reached out to retrieve it – 

yelping in surprise as his hand brushed against warm skin instead of cool slipperyness.

Equally startled, the fingers that he'd touched quickly retreated with the same turn of speed.

Moments later, to oddly familiar laughter, a flannel poked its way through a tightly clutched curtain.

"You know something, Nigel, we have _really_ got to stop meeting like this…!" Sydney chuckled, guessing by the muttered stammers from behind the shower that Nigel wholeheartedly agreed.

Still huddled defensively against the wall, and now even more reluctant than ever to stand up again,

Nigel kept an already clingy curtain wrapped tightly around him as he snatched the flannel through.

It was all Sydney could do not to collapse in hysterics when, after several moments of silence,

a slightly miffed, clipped British accent drifted out from behind still tightly closed curtains.

"Not wishing to brag, Syd, but I'm going to need something just _slightly_ larger…"

Now bent double with laughter, Sydney obligingly passed through a more suitably sized towel.

A few moments later, and after several tentative precursive checks, Nigel finally emerged – 

if anything more red faced and adorably sheepish than he'd been at the Hotel Roxbury.

For several seconds, they could only stare at each other, just as they'd done back in Chicago – 

one in complete mortification, the other in helplessly amused, quietly admiring approval.

It was finally Sydney that broke the silence between them – as only Sydney Fox could.

"So then, Nige… wanna go Carthaginian…?"

"C – Carthag…?" Nigel stared at her, totally thrown, before the dropping penny brought a mortified,

"Noooo…!"

Perhaps it was Syd's look of mock disappointment, or the sheer absurdity of the situation that did it,

but suddenly, and to his total surprise, Nigel found his indignation giving way to an exasperated smile.

"Damn it, Syd…!" he muttered at last, fighting a swiftly lost battle to keep his face straight.

Within seconds, he'd joined Sydney in fits of helpless, wonderfully tension breaking giggles. 

Laughter which swept away the awkward embarrassment – and much of what had passed before it.

Not wanting to push this breakthrough too far too quickly, and knowing they still had much to resolve, Sydney then grew slightly more serious as their eyes met and, to her relief, reassuringly held.

The return of Nigel's uncanny ability to anticipate her thoughts was another good sign.

"I know, Syd… we really need to talk…" he said at last, clearly feeling as awkward as she was.

Smiling slightly at her 'how do you do that…?' expression, Nigel glanced down at his toga of towels,

before he favoured her with that shy, hesitant grin that never failed to charm her as he added dryly, "But… um… well, maybe we should find somewhere not quite so… whoaaa…!"

"Slippery…?" Sydney finished for him, admirably straight faced as she levered him gently upright.

Blushing furiously, Nigel was still trying to fumble out a reply when they reached the door – 

his embarrassment increasing by several tenfold as it opened to a cringingly familiar scene.

Even Sydney could feel herself start to squirm under Sister Grace's frostily disapproving stare.

"Well now, Mr Bailey… I'm glad to see that you have… _recovered_ so quickly…" she said at last,

fixing the wide eyed, mortified Nigel with a look that could have re-frozen a melted glacier.

Clearly as unimpressed by his attempts to reply as his morals, she thrust a small bundle into his chest.

"Your clothing is now dry, Mr Bailey… I trust that it is to your satisfaction…?" she asked primly,

the sharp tone of her voice and a raised eyebrow defying Nigel to say anything other than yes.

"Y – Yes, mum… I – I mean, ma'am…oh God… oh no, sorry, Sister, I – I mean…" Nigel stammered,

now so totally flustered that it was left to a quietly furious Sydney to speak protectively for him.

"Sister Grace…" she smiled, her tone equally frosty towards the nun's less than charitable attitude. When she spoke again, her words were still quietly pleasant but firm enough to make their point. 

"You've done more than enough for Nigel already with your Christian kindness and compassion…" 

Blinking at this most subtle of rebukes, the senior nun then realised that she had met her match – 

casting a still visibly rattled Nigel a final, deeply suspicious glance before she went on her way.

As usual, Sydney was blithely unfazed by this encounter, and now found it to be highly amusing. 

The same, however, could not be said for her still fiercely blushing TA.

"Oh, this is just wonderful…!" Nigel groaned, burying his face in his non towel clutching hand.

"As if being caught in here with a half naked nun wasn't bad enough the first time around, but _this_…!"

The plaintive mutterings continued as he stared nervously at the ceiling for signs of divine retribution. "And why did it have to be _her_…? I – I mean, did you see the way she was looking at me, Syd…?

I – I hope you realise, that woman must now think that I'm a raving sex maniac…!"

"_You_, Nigel…? Perish the thought…!" Syd grinned, unable to resist this welcome chance to tease him. 

Her amusement instantly faded, however, as Nigel groaned once more and shook his head. 

"I'll never be able to show my face here again…" he muttered, running an edgy hand through his hair,

leaving the already tousled mop even more dishevelled than before.

Seeing his genuine embarrassment, and determined not to lose the precious ground they'd regained, Sydney sighed then gently stroked his hair straight while he stared up at her out of wide, startled eyes.

"Go and get changed, Nigel, then meet me in the kitchen… we can talk there…" she said at last,

refusing to break eye contact with him until that shy smile made a welcome reappearance.

Finally nodding his agreement, Nigel made his still cautious way along the corridor to his room – pausing at its end to cast Sydney another hope-giving smile before unlocking his door and going inside

Standing in his wake, Sydney closed her eyes and silently whispered a prayer of grateful relief.

They still had many more hurdles to clear, but the first and most difficult was now safely behind them.

Nigel, too, felt markedly happier than he'd done that morning when he re-joined her a short time later.

As he'd expected, Sydney was already waiting for him in the kitchen, chatting quietly to Sister Mary.

Evidently the senior nun had also been told of Nigel's latest unfortunate encounter with Sister Grace, since she now greeted her suddenly awkward young charge with a warmly reassuring smile.

"Well now, Nigel… isn't this a sight for sore eyes to see you up and about again…?" she said at last, trading privately meaningful glances with an equally grateful Sydney.

"He certainly is…" Syd agreed, hoping that Nigel would pick up on her own subliminal message.

The dark eyes looked surprised, but Syd felt sure that she'd seen something encouraging there too – 

the same nervous hope that, with the ice now broken, they could start to heal the rift between them.

Reluctantly breaking contact with those compelling eyes, she then nodded towards a nearby table.

"I thought if you felt up to it, and since it's such a great day, you might enjoy a picnic…" she went on,

trading amused glances with Sister Mary as Nigel studied the crammed hamper in ravenous approval.

"Yes, Nigel, I'd imagine that lovely fresh air will do you the power of good…" Sister Mary agreed – 

guessing from Nigel's slight smile that he'd also caught the private message beyond her words.

Watching them go, she could only hope that same message would find its way to his heart…


End file.
